


Bat Bros - Song Fics

by Crimson5Drake



Series: Bat Boys [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Also read with songs, Jason Todd and Red Hood are different personalities, Jason with wings, Joker Junior is Tim's split persona, Mentions of wings, Nocturna makes an appearance, Nothing more than brothers, Series of ten song-fics, Well Natasha does actually, please?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson5Drake/pseuds/Crimson5Drake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of ten song-fics, focusing mainly on Jason Todd. Whom I have given wings. Those get explained later on. By Red Hood. Don't ask questions. I swear it will make sense. The death depicted is Jason's, but he does come back.  I promise.  Also, one of the villains dies as well, so yeah... Please read. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evil Angel I

**Author's Note:**

> In which Tim finds himself trapped in a fire and thinks he's going to die.

Songfic – Evil Angel  
Characters – Tim Drake and Jason Todd

Tim laid there in the heated darkness. He could feel the melting heat of the fire raging around him and the searing pain of the smoke filling his lungs. He coughed and choked on it but it was the only thing he was able to breathe. He wasn't able to move and he felt like he was just going to pass out. This wasn't healthy and he was sure that nobody even knew that he was here. He had run away from the manor over something stupid that Jason had said and he really regretted it. He was going to die and nobody would know until it was too late and he was already dead and burned because Batman and Nightwing were out on a mission for at least another two weeks and he left without a word to Jason.  
He must have passed out for a time because when he came to he saw the fire in the distance, lighting up the night sky with flame and making the air look hazy from the smoke. He closed his eyes so they would stop stinging. He felt the cool chill around him and he heard the roar of the bike he was riding on.  
Bike?  
He tried to think through the groggy confusion that was brought on by way too much smoke inhalation and way too little oxygen in his system.  
...Jason?  
Come to think of it, there was somebody in front of him on the speeding bike.  
“It's all right, Baby Bird. You're safe with me.”  
Tim smiled and laid his forehead against the cool leather of Jason's jacket, holding tight to his oldest brother as they sped back to the manor.


	2. Diary of Jane I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fire, Jason wants to keep Tim home to keep him safe. Short as well, but that's why I'm posting a third part tonight.

Songfic – Diary of Jane  
Characters – Tim Drake and Jason Todd

It had a week since the fire. Tim didn't know what had caused it, but he wanted to get to the bottom of the case. Except that he wasn't allowed. Bruce and Dick were out for at least another week on a mission and that left Jason to take care of Tim. Jason wasn't allowing Tim out of the manor until he was completely healed. Tim had quite a lot of small burns scattering his body but there were two major burns that Jason wanted healed before he let Tim out of the house for any amount of time for any reason. One of the burns was on his right hand and the other was on his left shoulder. Nothing else was severely damage but Jason refused to let Tim out of the house until he was completely healed. He already felt like a disgrace for letting Bruce down multiple times. He didn't want anything to happen to Tim and he definitely didn’t want to be the cause of anything happening to his youngest brother.


	3. Dance with the Devil I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's encounter with Joker. Character death! Grief stricken Tim and Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is longer! Yay!

Songfic – Dance With the Devil  
Characters – Jason Todd and Joker; Tim Drake and Dick Grayson

Jason stood helpless, gagged and bound up on by chains that were attached to a stone wall behind him. Jason had only been in the clutches of his attacker for sixteen hours but it felt like a whole week. His “attacker” laughed manically, loving the fear that lit Jason's eyes when the maniac pulled a cat of nine-tails out from behind his back.  
Jason pulled back and tried to scream, called out, ANYTHING! He was desperate and it showed on his face, biting back yelps and tears, shrieks and pleas. He had even cried out for someone who had abandoned him long before. He was sore from the hours of attacks that happened beforehand. He was used to being attacked and used to fights, but that was street life. He wasn't used to a full on barrage of attacks for hours on end.  
“I'm afraid old Batsy isn't here to help you now!” Joker chortled manically as he continued lashing Jason, reveling in his screams of pain, terror, and fear.  
Things continued on like this for a matter of weeks, Joker receiving a sick amount of joy from torturing the Mocking Jay as he had taken to calling Jason. After a few weeks time though, Jason had become numb to the pain and torture that Joker gave him. He supposed that was the reason for his new nickname. Joke felt as if Jason were mocking him. It got to a point that he wanted to feel a deeper pain that Joker wasn't giving him so he started mocking his methods in hopes that he'd finally push Joker over the edge and instead of torture, he'd finally know the peace of death. Joker would bring Jason closer and closer to the brink of death with every torture session he'd put Jason through, but Joker would always pull him back before that brink could be met, before Jason could be met with that peace.  
To Jason, that was the greatest torture of all, because, at this point what he wanted more than anything was to die, and every single time, Joker ripped that from him by pulling him back. Jason didn't just want to die, he _craved_ it. He needed it to end, he needed the **torture** to end. He needed peace. He wanted to **_know_** peace. He wanted to finally know what it was like to be peaceful. He didn't understand how he was still going. He knew he couldn't take this much more, both physically and mentally. Finally, when Joker took the gun out of hiding, Jason knew he was done for and he reveled in the feeling.   
“Any last words, Mocking Jay?” Joker asked in a tone that had worn Jason's nerves down to nothing.  
“Not to _**you**_ ,” Jason spat with a rebellious smirk and a gleam in his eyes that Joker couldn't make out.  
“Oh, but you do have last words,” Joker noted. “Better say them now then,” he told the mocking jay with a gleeful grin.  
Jason looked into the camera that he knew had been sitting there for the whole time. Jason wondered how much of his torture got through to Bruce. He wondered how much of it Bruce saw. He wondered how much Bruce even **cared**. He wondered if there was even a part of Bruce that cared about him at all anymore. He was the one to throw him back into the streets, after all. Jason, ever diligent though, snuck back into the Batcave to retrieve the costume to try to redeem himself in Bruce's eyes. He supposed that was what had gotten him into this mess.  
“Say hi to the camera!” Joker shouted and laughed, holding the gun. He cocked the trigger and aimed to kill.  
“Dickie Bird, Papa Bat, take care of Baby Bird for me. And if you're watching this, Baby Bird—”  
BANG!  
Jason's left shoulder was knocked back into the stone wall behind him. He gasped and coughed, choking on the cloud of dust that resulted from the impact. He smirked at the low amount of pain he felt from the bullet wound but he knew it was more than a graze by the way he felt the hot, sticky liquid running from the wound.  
“Stop mocking me!” Joker shrieked.  
Jason, on the other hand, was completely unfazed by what had just occurred. “—I'm sorry that I couldn't take care of you myself.” He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. It sounded painful and shaky, rattling when he exhaled, but Jason seemed completely unfazed and not even noticing the pain. “I know I'm a pain in the ass and I know you see me as a failure, Bruce, but just know that I love you all dearly. I'm sorry.”  
BANG!  
Jason's left shoulder impacted the wall this time and his hair fell into his face blocking his eyes from view of the camera.  
He laughed, as painful as it felt, he didn't care. This was it. This was his release. He longed for it. He needed it, this sweet release. He smiled and stared straight into the camera for his final word. “Goodbye,” he whispered, smile still on his face.  
BANG!  
Dead center in the chest this time. Jason was coughing and sputtering now. Specks of blood flew from his mouth and there were lines of blood dripping down from the corners of his mouth. His vision went dark and he lost consciousness.

Tim wanted to puke. He lurched out of his chair and started crawling to the bathroom that was in the Batcave. Dick was at his side in an instant to help his little brother down the hall and to the bathroom. Dick helped him kneel in front of the toilet instead of having him fall into it.  
Tim coughed and vomited. Tears were streaming down his face. He wasn't sure if it was caused my the puking or by what he had just witnessed, but he'd bet his life that it was from what he'd just seen.  
Tim inwardly groaned. He wanted to smack himself for his wording. Jason was dead. Tim knew he hardly knew Jason, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Dick witnessed it as well and so did Bruce. And as soon as Bruce had realized what was taking place, he dropped everything and left. Tim was sure that the video broadcast to the Batcave had been a live feed from Joker himself.  
Tim lurched forward as more came up. He felt Dick kneeling behind him. He was rubbing Tim's back and keeping the hair out of Tim's face.  
Tim couldn't believe that he had just witnessed Jason's death. It felt so surreal but he knew it was reality. He had been shot once in each shoulder and then once in the chest. “Goodbye” had been his dying word. He went out with a bang and Tim knew he had been trying to go out strong, with a smile on his face.  
Tim finally felt alright to sit up. Dick was still rubbing his back, but tears were streaming down his face as well. Tim knew he couldn't have understood how Dick felt at the moment but the least he could do was comfort his brother. He shifted away from Dick's hand and turned around, still sitting and pulled Dick into a hug. There didn't need to be an exchange of words for Dick to know the reason behind the hug. He wrapped his arms around Tim and held him tight, sobs escaping his lips.  
The two slept together that night, Dick holding onto Tim and Tim curled up into Dick's chest. It took months for Dick to stop constantly checking up on Tim and the times that Dick got quiet, Tim would check up on him. It took awhile for things to settle down again, but it brought the boys closer together as brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bad that I kind of enjoyed writing this? Why the hell would you vote to have him killed, btw?? WHY! Also, yes, he had it tough, but that didn't make him a bad Robin! (Throws hands up in the air and walks away.)


	4. Savin' Me 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason comes back.

Songfic – Savin' Me

Characters – Jason Todd and Nocturna; Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, and Tim Drake

 

Jason's eyes flew open and he gasped for breath. Where was he? It was dark. And it smelled earthy? He couldn't remember. The last thing he remembered clearly were gun shots. He flew into a panic. Dick! Tim! What happened to them? Were they okay? They'd better be okay! Shit... What if they had died? Why hadn't something been done? Why hadn't HE done anything? “Please be alive, please be alive,” he continued to mutter while assessing his cage. He knocked on what assumed to be the top. Dirt came in and covered him in a very thin layer.

His eyes widened as he came to a realization: They weren't dead; he was.

What the hell had happened? How'd he get here? What...? Then it occurred to him that nobody was waiting for him. They all thought him to be dead. Shit!

He pounded on the top of the coffin, coughing on the dust that kept falling in. Now he was panicking. He was gonna die down here. He was going to suffocate and would even know. As far as they knew he was still dead. He wondered about Dick and Tim. He even briefly thought about Bruce but he tossed those thoughts away like Bruce tossed him away.

He began clawing at the top of the coffin and continued until his finger nails were no more and the tips of his fingers were bleeding. Then he started digging around in his pockets, inhaling sharply every time his finger tips scraped against the material.

There it was! His knife!

Jason removed it quickly and used it to slash through the roof of the coffin. He took a deep breath and removed the cut out, and dug his way out like a mole. He passed out when he finally got above ground.

 

Jason found himself standing at the pearly gates. He felt out of place, but what else was a street rat supposed to expect? He wanted in desperately but the constant twinging and aching in his back told him otherwise. He looked behind himself as best as he could and quickly turned back, disgusted by the sight of his wings, mangled and twisted, bones jutting off at strange angles. They had been stripped of their feathers, but they still had remnants of some of the original feather down.

He looked in front of him. It was his turn next. He stepped forward and the person at the gate—Jesus, he guessed. Or was that John?—looked at him and glanced at the Book. “I'm sorry,” though he didn't sound sorry at all, “you're not in the Book.” He reached out and shoved Jason over the edge of the clouds before taking a better look and actually flipping a few pages. “It's not your time yet, Jason Peter Todd.”

 

Jason awoke with a start. He looked around. He was no longer outside in the dirt of his grave. He was in a hospital room surrounded by machines.

“You're finally awake, I see.”

Jason turned to see a female. She looked familiar from somewhere, but he couldn't place from where. He smiled at her all the same thought. He felt groggy and like he could use more sleep,.

“How are you feeling, Sweetheart?” she asked him.

The term of endearment caught him off guard. Nobody had ever called him that, besides his mom. He turned and studied the woman. She was still vaguely familiar but he still couldn't place where from. “I'm feeling like I might need more sleep,” he finally answered her.

She gazed at him softly. “Then sleep, child. I'll still be here when you wake. You have no need to worry about that, Sweetie.”

There was a quality in her voice that practically lulled Jason back to sleep. He felt safer in her presence.

 

The phone rang at the manor. It caught Tim's attention first, but Bruce beat him to answering it. He had already told Tim that he needed to finish his homework before he was able to talk on the phone.

“Hello?” Pause. “Natasha,” Bruce breathed.

The way Bruce said her name caught Tim’s attention quick. While Bruce's attention was drawn away, he took his cell out of his pocket and shot a text off to Dick inquiring about her. Bruce turned around and Tim quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket. He turned his attention back to his homework, but not before catching a glimpse of the expression on Bruce's face.

Bruce's eyes were wide, almost the size of dinner plates. “He's what?” he exclaimed. “Is that even possible?”

Tim quickly retrieved his phone from his pocket again to tell Dick that there was something going on. He needed to keep his brother in the loop.

“Yes, I'll—” Bruce's gaze flicked over to Tim who wasn't paying attention because he was on his phone/ “WE'LL be there,” he clarified and then hung up.

Tim was on his feet in an instant. “What's up? Something's going on. I know it.”

Bruce moved passed Tim and rummaged around in the hall closet. Tim followed him and waited a few feet away. Bruce pulled out a leather jacket for himself and tossed a zip-up hoodie to Tim. “Text Dick and tell him to be ready. We're picking him up on the way to the hospital. Tell him that I got a call from Natasha. It's urgent.”

Tim did what he was told without question. Bruce would let him into the loop when the time was right.

 

Dick climbed into the car and closed the door behind himself. “What's the news, Bruce? Something has to be going on.”

Both he and Tim were staring at him expectantly, but they had not been expecting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Jason's back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know who Nocturna is, please look her up. She is the only one who makes sense to be sitting by Jason's bedside. It also makes sense if she was in the graveyard at the time Jason dug himself up. Also, the wing thing will be explained in later chapters.


	5. Battleborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime after Jason is put in the Lazarus Pit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't freak out on me for the way this goes. Just please...

Songfic – Battleborn

Characters – Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Joker

 

Jason was sitting on the couch in Wayne Manor. The place no longer felt like a home to him, but he saw it as a place to crash when he had nowhere else to go. He had been flipping through channels when he passed a local news station. He would have kept going but the “Joker” caught his attention.

“...has yet to be apprehended.”

Click.

Jason was furious. He angrily set the remote control down before he threw it through the wall. He stood up and furiously stomped into the kitchen where Bruce was sitting, reading the morning paper. Jason strode up to him, snatched the paper out of his hand, and punched him in the jaw. Before the Bad had time to recover, the paper was balled up on the floor and Jason was lifting Bruce into the air by the collar of his shirt. “HE KILLED ME AND YOU DIDN'T DO _**SHIT!**_ HE'S STILL ON THE STREETS!” Jason snarled at him. “ _ **WHY**_ DIDN'T YOU DO _**SHIT?**_ ”

Jason was thankful that it was a school day that day. The last thing he needed his Baby Bird seeing him flip his lid like this. This was probably the last thing the youngest Bat needed to see.

Jason continued to hold Bruce up. He closely eyed Bruce's reaction, but as usual he was completely stoic. Jason tossed him back into the chair, resulting in him and the chair skidding back and toppling over. Jason enjoyed the sight, smirking and walking away.

“What are you doing?” came the angry response.

Jason whirled around, quite ready to throw a punch if needed but Bruce was just standing in the kitchen doorway. Jason pursed his lips and gritted his teeth. “To finish what you wouldn't!” he spat out, fire in his eyes. He stalked over the small table outside the kitchen. He yanked open the door and grabbed his pistols, securing them to his belt. He had his hand on the doorknob when Bruce attempted to stop him once again. Jason whirled around and aimed a pistol at Bruce's head. “Stop me, I dare you,” he snarled, nostrils flaring.

“You could shoot me, Jason, but you'd regret it after doing so,” Bruce told him.

Jason scoffed. “I doubt that,” he snapped back. He removed the safety and cocked back the hammer. “Do you want me to test that theory?” There was no outward reaction from Bruce, except a look of panic in Bruce's eyes. “Thought not,” Jason smirked. He laughed and ran out the door.

 

Jason had the manically laughing Joker held up by his throat. “You! You did this to me!” he snarled. He had the barrel of his gun sitting right between Joker's eyes. It was a twisted irony that he was going to kill Joker with a gun that he had stolen from one of his own warehouses, but it was quite a fitting end. At least that's how Jason felt about it.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Joker said, waving a finger in Jason's face. “I didn't do this to you.” The corners of his mouth rolled upward in an evil, twisted grin. “You did this to yourself, my dear boy. You're the one who stole the Robin costume from our dear old Batsy, not me. Also, I didn't shove you into the Lazarus Pit, nor did I even suggest you go there. You did that all yourself, Mocking Jay.”

“Stop calling me that,” Jason snarled through pursed lips and gritted teeth. “I am no mocking jay. If there is any mocking going on, I'm the one being mocked.”

“Besides,” Joker drawled, “if you pull that trigger, that makes you no better than me.”

Jason scoffed. “Didn't you hear the news?” he questioned the green haired freak. “I'm already no better than you,” Jason informed him, referring to Red Hood. “I just choose to hide it a little differently.” There was about the cold, steely glint in Jason's eye that told Joker that Jason wasn't joking. For once in his life, he was terrified. As he tried to squirm his way out of Jason's grasp, the tightening of Jason's hold on his throat told Joker that Jason wasn't bluffing either. “Any last words? Joker.”

The squeak of fear that escaped Joker's lips was enough for Jason.

BANG!

And that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said.... Please don't flame or hate. Frankly, I hated Joker with a passion and listening to the lyrics of this song really make me think of Red Hood. Because Red Hood was battle born and battle made.


	6. Savin' Me II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason feels extreme guilt that he doesn't understand after killing Joker. And something about wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This makes up for the last chapter right? Jason is feeling guilty about killing Joker. And, hey, the wings are mentioned again.

Songfic – Savin' Me

Characters – Jason Todd and Tim Drake

 

Jason laid back on his bed. Why had he done that? WHY had he killed Joker? Now he really was no better than Joker ever was. Not that there was a Joker to be better than now. He should have listened to Bruce and just stayed put. He shouldn't have let his anger get the best of him. He should have...not reacted the way he did.

Jason didn't completely understand it though. He got in major trouble just for accidentally letting one person slip free, but Bruce got away with not killing Joker. Every single time, he let him go. Back into Arkham, but he got to keep his life. Jason didn't think that was fair but at the same time he was extremely off-put by the large amount of guilt he felt just because he killed Joker.

He groaned and stood up. He wasn't sure how much more of this guilt he could take. On top of all that was going on with him, he was feeling that dull ache in his shoulder-blades again. He had been feeling it on and off since he woke up in the hospital. Both Bruce and Natasha—the woman who he had woken up to that night. He still wasn't sure where he knew her from—had told him that his dream had been just that, a dream. But if that had been the case, why had he found documents saying that the doctors had been about ready to call him dead just minutes before he woke up?

He glanced behind him at his shoulder-blades. He could see them. That meant they were still there. He had hoped his dip in the Lazarus Pit had fixed that. It had fixed all of his other injuries—with a tragic side-effect, but he'd take that over a second death from the same injuries—except for the wings—which were a poor excuse in his book. They didn't heal, the throb didn't go away completely. He didn't feel them for quite a while after his dip, but somehow, it came back. How had every other part of his body healed, but his broken and damaged wings had remained the same? He felt as if they were mocking him actually. He desperately wanted to rid himself of them.

 

It had sounded like a nice idea at the time but don't all ideas? Sound like good ideas at first thought, that is. But good ideas don't usually leave you in your little brother's room, confined to bed rest with your upper torso—namely your shoulder-blades—covered in wrapping and gauze.

“Geez, Jason, what the hell had you been doing?” Tim asked him after he'd been conscious for a few hours.

Jason looked at the wall closest to him. He didn't want to answer that question. He didn't want to seem crazier than he already was.

“If you were trying to commit suicide, that's a hell of a way to go about doing it.” Tim smacked his hands against his mouth as soon as he realized exactly what he had just said. “Shit! I'm sorry! That came out completely wrong. That's not what I meant at all.”

Jason chuckled and then immediately regretted it, coughing out of pain. Laughing shouldn't hurt like that. Fuck! He'd really done a number on himself. “It's not like that,” he told Tim after he regained the ability to speak. He looked at his little brother who was perched in a recliner that Dick had dragged in so Tim would have somewhere else to sleep other than the floor. “I'm not crazy. Well, no more than usual despite what others might say.”

“I know what you said about the dream. Was this—” Tim motioned at his own back, referring to Jason's self-inflicted injury. “—a relapse of that?”

Jason didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure how. “Dream, sure,” he started slowly. “We'll start there. In the dream I was up by the pearly gates. I could feel a twinging throb in my back and saw wings. Broken, mangled wings with blood-covered down instead of any actual feathers. I have no idea what happened to the feathers. It was the blood taint that got me. I looked forward in disgust and whoever is supposed to be standing at the gates told me that my name isn’t in the Book—whatever that means—and pushed me over the cloud line. That's when I woke up in the hospital.”

“And then you went to the Lazarus Pit because you were dying from all the old wounds,” Tim recalled.

“And it healed everything except the continuous twinge that I felt in my back ever since waking up in the hospital.”

“So, what...?” Tim asked. “You tried to cut them out?”” he asked his oldest brother.

Jason nodded. “More or less, yes.”

“Are they still there?” Tim was curious. “I just know that those types of things are ethereal and, well, you're on the physical plane using physical knives,” he pointed out. “Would those even have the ability to cut out wings?”

Jason shrugged—which hurt more than he'd be willing to admit. “I don't know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole wing thing will make sense in the next chapter. I promise. Well, I think they will anyway. They're meant to.


	7. Evil Angel II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jason Todd has a weird dream involving Red Hood, Red Hood acts a bit like Nightwing and Deadpool rolled into one, and poor Tim doesn't know what to make of his brother mumbling in his sleep. Most amusing chapter by far,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I messed up with song order. I had this planned out from the beginning. Evil Angel I, Diary of Jane I, Dance with the Devil I, Savin' Me I, Battleborn, Savin Me II, Dance with the Devil II, Diary of Jane II, the cycle would end with Evil Angel II, and be followed by another song so I could start another series. I lost track and got distracted while writing this. I wrote to Evil Angel instead of Dance with the Devil. This turned out pretty much how I wanted it to. I may just put Dance with the Devil II next actually. So this will still end up being 10 parts.
> 
> Also, Red Hood made a reference to another fandom. I want to know if you can figure it out.

Songfic – Evil Angel

Characters – Jason Todd and Red Hood; Tim Drake

 

Jason opened his eyes to a silent darkness. It was silent but it wasn't welcoming. He knew he wasn't alone. He could feel the presence of another. “You're not me!” Jason shouted into the darkness. “So stop parading around in my skin!” As much as Jason didn't want to admit it, he was still broken. Red Hood had just started out as a facade but it had quickly escalated to something so much more. Red Hood was a consciousness all its own and now it was taking over his life.

“Oh, but I'm very much you.”

 

Tim rolled over in the recliner, half-conscious, awoken by Jason's sleep grumbling.

“Stop parading...my skin,” Tim heard his brother sleep grumble.

Tim glanced over at his brother who was moving around under the blankets of Tim's bed. Tim raised his eyebrow and glanced at the clock. It was 1:37 AM.

“Oh, buh I'm very mush you.” Jason turned over his arm falling over the edge of Tim's bed.

“Okay then... You sound drunk.” Tim turned over, ignoring his brother's sleep-talking. “You're gonna feel that in your shoulder in the morning.”

 

Red Hood was standing up in the rafters of the warehouse he was in with Jason. “Oh, but I'm very much you. I came with you out of hell and the Pit just made me so much stronger.” He chuckled. “Of course it was easy to attach myself to your poor, vulnerable soul after Joker finished breaking you completely. You never were the same after old Batsy threw you back onto the streets.” He laughed maliciously. “You do know who it was who influenced you to steal the Robin costume and go after Joker that night, don't you?”

Jason narrowed his eyes, looking in the direction that he heard the taunting voice. “Go fuck yourself!” he spat at Red Hood. “That wasn't you! I was driven by my own desire to redeem myself in Bruce's eyes. You didn't influence shit!”

Red Hood sat down in the rafters, his feet dangling over the edge. “I suppose you're right. You were driven by your own mad desire to redeem yourself so you didn't look like a pathetic street urchin poser. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were good enough as much as you wanted to prove to Bruce.” Red Hood barked out a laugh. “But you and I both see how well that turned out. You dug your own grave! Quite literally!”

Jason snorted a laugh before turning serious again. “Yeah, but I dug my way out of it too! Or had you not seen that?”

“Oh, no, I did see that. You were my redemption from heat-stroke, after all. I just suppose you're lucky that you can't cut out those wings of yours with your typical run-of-the-mill knives.” He chortled again. “I guess that just means that you are a pathetic excuse for a Robin after all.”

Jason scoffed and shook his head. “If I'm so pathetic, why bother attaching yourself to me at all? Why didn't you choose somebody more...Worth your time?”

“Because, you're a Robin who's had his wings clipped. I didn't only attach myself to you because of your broken soul, I attached myself to your willingness for revenge, and your hatred for your killer. I attached myself to your darkness and I feed on it every chance I get. I haven't come across many like you who will unknowingly let me attach myself to them. I tried that once before but he knew me for the demon I am. And that angel of his cast me back into the darkness before he was pulled out of that godforsaken pit!” Red Hood spat out. “The way I see it, you were a free ride out and I took it!”

“Is that all I am to people now?” Jason called up to him. “A scapegoat and a way out of difficult times?”

Red Hood shrugged, dropping something from the rafters. He laughed when Jason flinched. Jason was obviously waiting for it to explode. “It's harmless,” Red Hood told Jason when Jason looked up at him as if he was crazy. “It's harmless and I'm bored. You do the math.”

“So you throw a bullet at me?” Jason questioned. God, this entity was a loon.

Red Hood nodded, not like Jason could see it in the dark but he didn't care. “Besides, you can't tell me that you didn't notice Tim's costume change.” Red Hood shrugged and sighed, turning side-ways and laying down on the rafter, his limbs dangling off the sides. “I guess he just doesn't want to be associated with a pathetic excuse like you.”

Jason laughed. “If that's the case then he's the pathetic one. All he did was put a color in front of the title and then changed the costume and the symbol. If you're trying to psych me out, then you really need to try harder. I know my brothers better than that.”

“Maybe,” Red Hood mused, “but you're still just a pathetic street urchin.”

“It's sad that your using Joker's antics against me. I saw through his game and I can definitely see through yours. You can't use my family to get to me. Family is thicker than blood. Me and my brothers will always have each other's backs. I can't say the same for Bruce, but there's nothing you can't say to me about him that I haven't already told myself.”

“Heh,” Red Hood scoffed and sat up, “is that so? That doesn't mean that you'll be rid of me. I'm still a part of you, Jason Todd. And so are those pathetic excuses for wings.”

“That's three times you've mentioned wings now! What the hell is up with them!?” Jason inquired quite loudly. He was getting tired of Red Hood's antics. He knew Red Hood was just toying with him and he was getting tired of it.

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Red Hood asked him innocently. He stood up and jumped off the rafters, landing with a thud on the cement floor below only a few feet away from Jason.

“They mean something.” Jason pulled one of his pistols out of his holster, cocked the trigger, and then aimed it at Red Hood. “Now start talking!”

“But how can I when I don't know what you mean?” he asked, a grin evident in his tone. He started rocking back and forth on his heels and toes.

“You're pushing my buttons,” Jason huffed. “I'll shoot!”

“But I won't die,” Red Hood pointed out, still rocking back and forth on his feet.

“No, but it'll hurt like a son of bitch. Now talk!” Jason took two steps forward, gun still aimed at Red Hood's temple. “I've had it with your games!” he snarled.

Red Hood stopped rocking on his feet and started laughing silently instead—Not that Jason could see this because the hood covered his face. “And if I don't talk?” He knew he was pushing it but he didn't care. This was quite fun.

Jason growled in irritation. BANG! He pulled the trigger out of irritation and Red Hood went flying.

 

Tim woke up again, this time to go to the bathroom. He glanced over at Jason to see if he was sleeping any better than he had been earlier. He looked like he was sleeping sounder. Tim smiled to himself and got off the recliner. He was almost to the door when he heard Jason mumbling again. Tim watched as Jason's hand flew into the air dramatically.

“What...?” Poor Tim was so very confused.

“Goodness gracious... I've been bamboozled.” Jason rolled over and started snoring again.

“The hell?” He walked over to his brother. “Jason?” he asked him with a small poke to his arm. “Are you okay?”

Jason twitched in his sleep so violently that Tim practically flew across the room. He mumbled one word. “High...”

Tim nodded slowly. “Yes, you are.” He quickly exited the room before he questioned his brother's sanity even more. And he thought Dick was the eccentric one.

 

“Oh, my goodness gracious! I've been bamboozled!” Red Hood yelled as he flew through the air.

Jason stared at him as he flew through the air. “What the fuck?” he mumbled to himself. “What are you, high?”

“No, but thanks for asking,” Red Hood replied, standing back up and dusting himself off.

Jason was feeling extremely exasperated and extremely annoyed with Red Hood. For some reason Red Hood was reminding Jason of Dick—if he was even more eccentric and on the dark side. “WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING WNGS!?”

Red Hood laughed and shook his head. He tapped his temple with his forefinger. “Think about it. Haven't you noticed that the few times you tried to get rid of them, I got stronger?” Red Hood asked Jason.

“I noticed,” Jason told him, feeling very put off. He wasn't dumb. He just didn't like thinking about unnecessary things. “I just didn't put much thought into why that would be. So if I remove the wings, you take over. What happens if I remove you?” Jason cocked the trigger and shot off a bullet but Red Hood dodged it.

“Can't, sorry,” he said with a small shrug.

“If that's case then why the fuck won't you stand still!?”

“Stop shooting!” Red Hood yelled back. “I can't die, but I can still feel pain!”

It was then that Jason felt his whole world moving around him.

 

After going to the bathroom, Tim didn't go back to bed. He went down to the kitchen instead since he smelled breakfast. He ate his plate quickly and decided he'd bring Jason's plate to him as well. He figured it would be something nice to wake up to after the crazy dream he'd been living all night. Tim couldn't begin to guess what it was, nor did he want to, but he figured Jason would be happy to wake up nonetheless.

“Stop shooting!” Tim heard, clear as day, when he entered his bedroom with Jason's plate of food. “I can't die, but I can still feel pain!”

“Dude, what the hell?” he questioned. Tim placed the plate of food down on his bedside table and hoped that Jason didn't flail and knock it off. He shook Jason and hoped that he woke up. Tim also poked him a few times in the arm and the forehead.

“'m awake,” Jason mumbled in response.

“You'd better be. You've been talking in your sleep all night. I need to get a video camera so you can hear yourself.”

Jason propped himself up on his elbows. “I smell food. Also, I don't remember what I dreamed. You may need to jog my memory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all I can say is poor Tim. His parts are part of the reason I had such a fun time writing this part.


	8. Dance with the Devil II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is lost inside his own head, confusion ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason is a nerd.

Songfic  – Dance with the Devil II

Characters: Tim Drake; Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, and Bruce Wayne

 

Tim groggily opened his eyes. He didn't know where he was or what was going on. He tried to recall the last thing he remembered but it was hazy. He remembered patrolling alone...But there was something before that. He had been going to investigate an APB broadcast that he heard over the GCPD comms channel that the Joker was out of Arkham again and that he was last seen by the docks.

What happened?

He shook his head. He couldn't remember. All he knew was that he smelled chemicals thick in the air. He started coughing on dust that was in the air and the grime that was thick in his breathing area.

He tried to move. His arms, his legs. Stuck. He was stuck on a table. Metal, leather. He couldn't move, his head was swimming. Shit...

He heard a laugh behind him, above his head. “Ah, look dear, our little boy is, ah, awake.”

A shudder ran through Tim. He didn't like the tone of his voice. Or anything about what was going on. No. No! NO! This wasn't happening. He squeezed his eyes shut and then he felt the table rocking, shaking, back and forth.

An earth quake?

 

Tim. Tim! Tim, wake up! Wake up!

“Drake!”

That voice.

“Damn it, Drake! Wake your ass up this instant!”

Damian? He sounded worried.

Tim's eyes flashed open. He was on the floor of his room. He glanced around. Jason had his feet and Dick and Damian each had an arm.

Oh, thank god. It was just a nightmare.

He wasn't. He wasn't taken by the Joker.

But there was something wrong. He looked into each of their eyes and saw dead, lifeless eyes. No emotion. Just...dead.

“NO!”

He fought and struggled against their holds.

He coughed. He was choking. Chemicals. There were chemicals in the air. A plethora of them.

Death. He also smelled death. Dead bodies.

He opened his eyes again and was met with more darkness. He could see the faint outlines of figures and as his eyes adjusted he saw that the figures holding him only _resembled_ his brothers, but they weren't his brothers. They were all painted up, mouths cut wide, twisted jokers grins plastered on their faces.

“No! No no no no no! Damn it!” he screamed. He got one leg away from Jason and thrust his leg upward, kicking him the jaw and hopefully making the twisted look-a-like chomp on his own tongue. He yanked his arm away from Dick and punched Damian in the nose. He kicked his free foot forward, kicking Jason square in the chest. He got to his feet and fled. He wasn't sure if they were following him or not and he didn't care. He wanted to get as far away from them as possible, far away from the smells of death and decay.

Why the hell did this place look so much like the manor? Had they been infiltrated? Had the Joker finally won? Did that mean Bruce was dead?

“ **No!** No, no, no, NO!” He tore down the halls, hot tears streaming down his face. “Fuck you, fuck this, fuck IT _ALL_! God **DAMN** IT!” His voice broke with the shrillness of his yell, his tone telling just how angry and done he was, how angry at himself and everything he was, how he just wanted to be home and in his bed. “NO, NO, NO! Not happening! No one is dead! Death! Is not! The ANSWER!”

Zombies? Was it a zombie apocalypse? Is that what it was?

Whatever it was, whatever was happening, it wasn't true. It wasn't real. It had to be all in his head, damn it!

“Spiked!” he shouted. “I've been spiked! Damn it!”

And that was it. Toxin. Fear Toxin. That had been the chemicals he had been smelling.

But after he figured it out, things changed. The scene changed. Running. Running. Running. Long halls that led to nowhere. The scene kept twisting and changing.

“God damn it! Twisting and changing! I am not going to be kept in my own FUCKING **HEAD!** ”

“Follow my voice, Nerd Bird, follow my voice,” a soothing male voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

Tim stopped dead and looked around. “Jason?” he asked incredulously.

“Ding ding ding. We have a winner!”

“What the actual fuck is going on?” Tim asked. Things had stopped moving around him. Although it could have been the fact that he was standing still.

“Follow the voices, Babybird.”

Tim smiled when he heard Dick's voice. “That's near impossible,” he said, turning around. “You're coming in from everywhere.”

Jason gasped. He had an idea. “Find a mirror, Nerd Bird. Do you have wings?”

Tim glanced around. He remembered Jason telling him about the ones he had, that he couldn't see tangibly but could see in reflections. Jason told him that his wings, having them still there—even though they were ravaged and bare—was the only thing keeping Red Hood from completely taking over. Tim was curious about himself actually. He wondered about JJ, if Tim did have wings, he wondered if that was the thing keeping him at bay.

 

Tim didn't remember what happened next. He remembered waking up and hugging Dick and Jason and even Damian. He hugged Bruce and didn't want to sleep alone that night so he slept with his brothers. He must have been given the anti-toxin before he was able to check. Or he did and that's what had woken him up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So is Tim.


	9. Diary of Jane II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize it's incredibly short. I am so sorry for that. But at least it's getting updated. Tim's been on my mind a lot these past few months. So that's why this chapter and the last was incredibly Tim!centric. If you can even call this a chapter.

Songfic – Diary of Jane II

Characters: Tim Drake and Jason Todd

 

Jason didn't let Tim sleep alone. At the first sign that his brother was in trouble, Jason didn't ask questions, Jason didn't try to wake him. Jason crawled into bed with him and held him tight. He didn't let the Babybird thrash and fight from nightmares brought on by faded effects of the fear toxin or the joker venom that had been in his system all those years ago. Although, sometimes, Jason found himself wondering if in some twisted alternate reality Red Hood and Joker Junior were brothers. He found himself wondering if they were friends, how close they were, maybe something more? Lovers perhaps? Jason wondered. And with those thoughts he fell asleep curled up around Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter. Perhaps focusing on JJ and Red Hood. We will see what a second song-fic series will do.


	10. Question Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of expanding on this idea at a later point. It's a rather fascinating idea in a sick, twisted way.

Songfic – Question Everything

Characters: Joker Junior

  
  


JJ gazed around the throne room at the pictures of his mom, his photographs, the ones he had taken in all her grace and glory. She was stunning, beautiful, and she could have been anything she wanted to be. Instead, she was dead, at the hand of Bats and his sons.

According to the eldest, he was one as well. JJ had spat in his face and laughed. He was no such thing. He lived in the castle with mommy and daddy and he was heir to the Gotham throne.

The man pulled away when he was told this and there was such fear in his eyes it made JJ cackle. He loved the tears that his words elicited. And he didn't wait to break the Big Bird more. He punched him in the nose and once more in the jaw before his wrist was grabbed and he was pulled around, a punch being thrown out and landing square in his jaw.

The boy he had just punched jumped out and held back the taller male. “Jason,” he said frantically. “That's Tim. That's our Tim. He's our brother! Stop it.”

_Brother._

And then it came back to him. Slowly, in pieces, broken. But it came back. Laughing, the manor, ridiculously wonderful scents.

He swept his leg out, knocking both boys on their backs before running, fleeing back home, back to his throne, back to where he belonged.

He hated them. He hated them all. He had killed her for no reason. She had her whole life ahead of her. She was a good person, she was doing good things. She was smart—brilliant—but it would never be seen, not now, not ever. And it was all because of **them**!

Enraged, angry, he screamed. He tore at his flesh. He could feel. That was good. He ran to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. His father looked back at him. He hated it! He hated himself! He tore the mirror off the wall and slammed it to the ground and jumped on the pieces in his bare feet. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt a shard embed itself into his foot. He didn't care though. It hurt but the pain felt nice, welcoming even. He picked up another shard and stabbed it in his arm. He stabbed another in his leg. After each, he screamed in pain, he groaned in agony. This was great. He reveled in the pain. He grabbed another shard and dragged the tip down his arm. He hissed, blood beading up along the trail he left. This was it, this was perfect.

He stabbed it in his jugular and took up another piece, running it down and across his throat. He dragged it down his chest, cutting himself open, the hot blood running over. He hissed in agonizing delight, slowly removing every piece of glass from his body. Lastly, he picked up an extremely sharp piece and tore open the healing wounds of his mouth. He did this every so often to keep his smile at its freshest, even when he didn't feel like smiling.

He cackled at that thought. He was Joker Junior. Why _wouldn't_ he feel like smiling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! Not sure what I'm going to do with the song-fics next but please read my other fic. "The Depression of Tim Drake and How He Deals With It" Please and thank you.


End file.
